I thought coming home after years abroad would be a moment of joy—laughter, tight hugs, maybe even a few happy tears. I was excited to meet and see my family. And I did the perfect timing, during our family gathering. Instead, the second I stepped through the front door, the room went eerily silent.

Not the good kind of silent. Not the oh-my-god-it's-you! kind. No, this was wrong.

"Uh… surprise?" I said, forcing a grin.

My mom's smile was too quick, too forced. She rushed over, hugging me like she had to remind herself how. "You should've called first."

"Figured I'd surprise you."

"Yeah," my dad muttered, scratching the back of his neck. "Some surprises are… unexpected."

I frowned. That was a weird thing to say.

Scanning the room, I expected excitement—maybe someone pulling out their phone to record a reunion clip for social media. Instead, my aunts and uncles barely met my eyes. My dad stole a glance at his phone before stepping away. My mom squeezed my arm a little too tightly.

And then I noticed—Emily wasn't there.

I hadn't seen my sister in over three years. Between time zones and busy schedules, our calls had grown shorter, less frequent. But still—she should have been here.

My stomach tightened. "Where's Em?"

Silence.

A too-long, too-heavy silence.

My great-aunt, bless her, just smiled, completely oblivious to the tension suffocating the room.

"Oh, sweetheart! You'll finally meet your nephew today!"

I froze.

"My… what?"

The word barely left my mouth before the air in the room shifted. My mom's face turned a ghostly shade of pale. My dad looked like he wanted to sink into the floor. Every single relative suddenly found something very interesting about their drinks, the tablecloth, the wall—anywhere but me.

No one answered.

My heart pounded. "Did she just say nephew?" I looked from one face to another, searching for an explanation. "Emily doesn't have a—"

Knock. Knock.

The door.

I turned just in time to see Emily step inside.

She stopped in her tracks the moment our eyes met.

For a second, we just stood there, staring at each other. She looked… terrified. As if she had been dreading this exact moment.

My parents weren't looking at her. They were looking at me, like they were bracing for impact.

I barely had time to react before Emily shifted, stepping aside—

And that's when I saw him.

A little boy, no older than three, clutching her hand.

My stomach twisted into knots. He had curly dark hair, wide brown eyes—

Eyes that looked exactly like my ex-fiancé's.

Blood roared in my ears.

I swallowed hard. "Emily…" My voice was barely above a whisper. "Who is that?"

I couldn't breathe.

The little boy—his little boy—clung to Emily's hand, blinking up at me with wide, innocent eyes. A miniature replica of the man who had shattered me.

And then, as if the universe hadn't already knocked the air from my lungs, he stepped inside.

Nathan.

The ex-fiancé who had left me at the altar. The man I had spent years trying to forget. And yet, here he was, standing in my parents' living room like he belonged.

The room tilted. I gripped the back of a chair to steady myself.

No one spoke.

No one moved.

Nathan's gaze locked onto mine, unreadable. I wished I could say I felt nothing, that time had erased the pain, but all I felt was a hurricane of emotions threatening to rip me apart.

And then, I saw it. The guilt in his eyes.

That was what did it.

A cold, bitter laugh bubbled up in my throat. "So… we're doing this now?" My voice shook, but I didn't care. "After all these years, this is how I find out?"

Emily flinched. "I—"